


our roots remain

by LiveLaughLovex



Series: tomorrow’s precious memories [7]
Category: Blue Bloods (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Episode: S09E07 - By Hook or By Crook, Spoilers for 9.07 - By Hook or By Crook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 11:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16575206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLaughLovex/pseuds/LiveLaughLovex
Summary: Post S9E07. Despite how angry the woman sometimes made her, Eddie was still partly her mother. There were times when that was something she was very, very proud of.





	our roots remain

**Author's Note:**

> Family is like branches on a tree. We all grow in different directions, yet our roots remain as one. - Unknown

“So,” Eddie murmured as she collapsed onto the sofa next to her fiancé in his Brooklyn Heights apartment. Her head fell almost immediately to rest on his shoulder. “You were right. About my mom,” she clarified when glanced down at her curiously. “You said there had to be a reason she’s always been stubborn when it comes to money, the way your grandmother was stubborn when it came to food. You were right.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jamie replied. He paused the football game playing on the television to give her his undivided attention.

Eddie sighed. “Yeah.” She fell silent for a few moments before speaking again. “My mother grew up in a tiny Serbian village. I think you knew that already.” She waited until he nodded before continuing. “She was the youngest of seven children. Her parents were broke, which is saying a lot. Everyone was struggling back then, but my grandparents…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “They were barely making ends meet. My mother told me that her mother told her that her father cried when she was born in the fifties, but they weren’t tears of happiness. He was angry that he had yet another mouth to feed.”

Jamie exhaled noisily, shaking his head. “That’s a heavy weight to have to carry your whole life,” he commented. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for your mom. I mean, my grandmother’s parents were always struggling, but they never resented her or any of her siblings.”

“Well, you’re Irish Catholics,” Eddie pointed out as if that explained everything. “Babies are considered blessings. My grandfather didn’t believe in much of anything, and he ridiculed my grandmother for her faith. She was Serbian Orthodox. So is my mom. So am I. It’s a little piece of where I come from that I don’t want to let go of. My mother doesn’t want to let go of it, either. There’s a reason she pointed out the Catholic thing multiple times during that lunch.”

“Well, my family’s not going to refuse to let me marry you because you’re Orthodox instead of Catholic, Eddie. This is the twenty-first century, not the sixteenth.”

“Yes, I figured that out when I butchered the Lord’s Prayer on _accident_ a few weeks back after doing it on _purpose_ right after the engagement. That’s not what my mother’s worried about.” She sighed when Jamie arched an eyebrow in question. “Kids,” she finally blurted. “She wants to know how we’ll raise our kids.” Eddie shook her head when her fiancé’s eyes widened at her words. “We are raising them as Catholics,” she informed him definitively. “I told her the same. They can be proud of all the places they came from. They don’t just have to be proud of the one. After all, my dad is Catholic. Well,” she amended, “he was Catholic. I don’t have any idea if he still practices behind bars.”

Jamie smiled slightly at that. “It means a lot to me, raising our kids Catholic,” he commented after a moment. “Are you sure that’s really what you want to do, though? I mean, I have nothing against Orthodoxy, if that’s what you think.”

“Jamie, honey,” Eddie stated slowly. “I have known you for half a decade now. I already knew that. This is a decision I’m making for myself and our children as much as I’m making it for you. Despite what my mother thinks, there are some things in my life she doesn’t control. My future fictitious children fall into that category. They can be Serbian and Irish Catholic. There’s no rule against it.”

“I’m glad to know that, because they will, be definition, be both those things,” Jamie pointed out teasingly. “Your family comes from Serbia; mine comes from Ireland. Those things are both set in stone in their currently fictitious DNA at this point.”

“Ha, ha, you’re very funny,” Eddie replied dryly. “My mother’s faith is important to her because of where she came from. It’s the same reason it’s important to me. The Church is important to your family because of your story. Our kids don’t have to carry just one story. They can’t. Nobody would have any ounce of their story left by now if that was the way things worked. But they are being _raised_ Catholics.”

“Okay,” Jamie agreed.

“And when they come home and tell us they got into Yale, we will, under no circumstances, tell them that it’s no Oxford, but it’s still acceptable.”

“Eddie, I don’t care if our kids get into Yale or Harvard or the community college down the street. I’ll still throw them a party if it’s their dream to go,” Jamie promised. There was no hint of dishonesty in his tone.

“And if they decide to go into the family business, we’re going to be supportive,” Eddie ordered. “We are not going to call them idiots who can’t see their own stupidity.”

“Okay, this is going to become a problem soon. Because I was just starting to like your mom, and now I’m starting to think I should lock her up for child abuse instead.” Jamie shrugged when Eddie shot him a confused glare. “Verbal abuse, whatever. Still counts.”

“Honey, those things aren’t even on the top ten list of worst tales my mother has ever told me about my own life,” she informed him casually. “There is a reason I only see her twice a year. Although that might increase, thanks to you and your meddling ways.”

“You loved it,” Jamie replied flippantly, a teasing smirk on his face. “You told me, remember? When you came into the kitchen while your mother was digging through those photo albums? By the way, those prom pictures sure were something.”

“I looked like an idiot,” Eddie muttered petulantly.

Jamie chuckled under his breath. “No, babe, you didn’t. You looked beautiful,” he assured her. “I would’ve asked you to dance before the night was over, I guarantee it.”

“I can do you one better,” Eddie replied quietly. “You get to be the guy who dances with me at our wedding.”

Jamie wrapped his arm more tightly around her waist and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “That is better,” he agreed softly. “So much better.” He lifted the remote to start the game again when it was clear their conversation was over. 

That night, they fell asleep to the sounds of the soft murmur made by the television. It was one of the best nights they'd ever had. 


End file.
